


Shitsuji

by emanthony



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, M/M, The Butlerverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-01-18 11:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emanthony/pseuds/emanthony
Summary: What if, in an alternate universe, Illumi and Hisoka met one another exactly the same way that Gon and Killua met one another in canon?--At age twelve, Illumi knows some nen, and has conquered the Celestial Tower. Now on a mission to obtain a Hunter's License, he arrives at the exam site to find another child present: Hisoka Morow.It's not an assassination, but he's nevertheless quite sure this opportunity will bring great fortune to the Zoldyck name.





	1. Zetsu

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU in which Hisoka becomes a butler of the Zoldyck household.

“That’s Hisoka.”

 

He was a kid with dark black hair and small, pointed nose, dressed in well-worn travelers robes. There was more than one suspicious copper stain, but this _Hisoka_ had the confidence that made it very nearly stylish. Though he was a wiry teenager in a room of rippling muscles and masculine grunts, he seemed in no way threatened by the other attendants of the Hunter Exam.

 

“He was here last year too,” Tompa said. He leaned in, because while he was already short, and near Illumi’s height, there was still a gap between them.

 

A gap that Illumi widened immediately. Blank, black eyes watched Tompa bristle at the rejection. He stood up straight, his squashed face at odds with the perfect, pristine European decor that filled the waiting room on the 99th floor. There were no seats left, and so the crowd stood, filling the space, standing on a lush imported carpet. Not unlike one Illumi had at home, himself.

 

“Pretty girls should avoid him,” he said. “Hisoka’s dangerous.”

 

Illumi tilted his head, and a waterfall of black hair fell across his bare neck and yukata-clad shoulder. “I am a boy.”

 

Tompa jerked back as if struck. The color drained from his face and he said, “Oh.”

 

“I am twelve. Are you a pedophile?”

 

And just like that, the color filled Tompa’s face again. “I’m only eighteen. You’re not that much younger than me.” He sniffed, backing away with a dawning look of disgust. “And I’m not gay. That’d be Hisoka, if you’re looking.”

 

Illumi turned away.

 

“Forget it. I’m not telling you shit. Pervert,” Tompa spit. He pushed through the crowd, away from Illumi, grumbling all the while.

 

See, Illumi really didn’t need Tompa to tell him about Hisoka’s power.

 

Even if Illumi hadn’t been equipped with his own newfound nen abilities, it was obvious in how Hisoka moved, in how his arms were corded, in the way his very yellow eyes were very sharply focused. 

 

If nothing else, it was obvious because Hisoka was the only other child -- well, teenager -- present. It meant a great deal that a child could reach the beginning of the exam. Of course Illumi had achieved it without much effort at all; he was extraordinarily powerful himself. Although he hadn’t mastered all the tenets of nen power, he had his natural physical prowess to make up for any areas he lacked.

 

But he had learned _some_ power. 

 

With nen, there was something called zetsu. It hid your magical presence from other nen users. Illumi had focused his zetsu the moment Hisoka walked through the double-doors at the front of the waiting room. It was instinctual, to protect himself from obvious threats. Hisoka was a very obvious threat.

 

After a moment of contemplation, bolstered by Tompa's apparent fear, Illumi lowered his zetsu. After all, it would be beneficial to know _precisely_ Hisoka's strength. It would be beneficial to know _definitively_ his abilities with nen. And so Illumi removed his protection under the hope that Hisoka would notice him, maybe, and perhaps come closer.

 

Illumi blinked out over the crowd. Though he was tall for his age, he still couldn’t see over the group amassed, and had lost sight of Hisoka minutes ago. Somewhere between Tompa departing and Illumi’s decision to investigate, he’d vanished.

 

Illumi needed a wall to climb, to give him a vantage. It was safest against a wall, anyway. He turned.

 

And stood face to face with Hisoka.

 

More face-to-chest, but nevertheless. He didn’t startle; that reaction had long ago been tortured from his psyche. He did immediately, and instinctively, activate his zetsu again. He looked up into Hisoka’s face and was greeted with a hauntingly pristine smile.

 

“Was that for my benefit?”

 

Illumi stared at him, and chose not to answer. His face was blank, eyes flat. 

 

“I can read minds, you know,” Hisoka said. His voice was sultry and deep -- impressive in a way, considering he couldn’t’ve been a day older than fifteen. “You don’t have to hide from me. I saw it inside your head. You wanted to see me.”

 

And now it was like navigating a minefield; Illumi couldn’t be certain Hisoka was lying. There had been more than one instance of strange and unique nen powers in Illumi’s studies on the subject. Mind-reading was far from implausible. It could be Hisoka’s hatsu -- his specialized nen skill. It would certainly be a useful one. 

 

Illumi blinked at him and said only, “Is that true?”

 

Hisoka’s smile dropped for a look of surprise. 

 

Illumi stood there in uncomfortable silence for some time before he added, “It is untrue, then.”

 

Hisoka pressed a hand to his face and muffled a chuckle. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re so cute. It startled me.” His hand lowered enough to reveal the eyes of a tiger, or a lion, or any beast primed for a hunt. “For a moment, I wanted to crush you between my hands.” And just like that, Hisoka’s aura filled the air around them both. A foggy black cloud, charged with figurative and literal electricity.

 

Illumi was in much greater danger than he anticipated. Great enough to abandon the mission, in fact. Father would understand quite well, he was sure. He nearly took a step backwards. _Nearly._

 

Hisoka wasn’t like any mark Illumi had faced, or any distantly-observed master of nen. No. Hisoka was a murderer like the Zoldycks were murderers, and he had both the lust for death and the power necessary to overwhelm Illumi in a moment if he chose to do so. 

 

“Where have you learned nen?” Illumi asked, heart thundering in his chest. His only hope, his only chance of escape, was to distract Hisoka long enough that he forgot the rolling hunger to destroy. “Yours is unique, your ten.”

 

Hisoka’s hand dropped from his face. His lips pursed. “Nen?”

 

Illumi nodded once.

 

Hisoka’s brows pinched and his aura, that choking power, ebbed out and away. “What’s nen?”

 

Illumi was silent for a beat. And now the most horrifying realization of them all:

 

Hisoka’s gift was purely of _nature_. He was _untrained_. 

 

He was one of the most powerful nen users Illumi had ever seen in purely an aura state. And he was that way without an understanding of what he could do. He was a remarkable monster standing there, in a crowded room of combatants, and he would be utterly unstoppable if he knew the limits -- and the lack of limits -- of the skills he wielded so casually.

 

Like turning a snake into a dragon. Like a mountain into a volcano. Like a storm into a hurricane.

 

Like a knife into a sword. 

 

He was the perfect weapon and Illumi had stumbled across him here, just by pure chance. Though he still had to study to learn his own hatsu, the power that would be very uniquely specific to himself, Illumi was nearly perfectly trained in physical, non-magical weaponry. He knew how to use guns, swords, any number of arms -- but moreso than that, he knew how to use _people_. The Zoldyck family, his family, had been creating contracts for centuries with men and women of special power. They called them the butlers, and they had been serving Illumi since the day he was born.

 

Warmth filled Illumi head to toe. He smiled in a way he hadn’t in years -- a true, natural beam of joy lighting him from the inside out. “Come home with me after we complete the exam and I will teach you.”

 

Hisoka blinked. 

 

Illumi held his hand out. “I am Illumi Zoldyck. And if you agree, I will show you unspeakable power.”

 

Hisoka grasped his hand and his smile, in response, was slow, and it lingered. “And what are you going to want from me in exchange, Illumi?”

 

“Are you familiar with the term _shitsuji_?”


	2. Ten Tons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Illumi and Hisoka finish the Hunter Exam and arrive at the Zoldyck manor in time for a very special arrival.

The exam was a war. Bloody and vicious and no place for children. The sky was nearly blackened with ash from weapons and the burnt remains of the fallen, and far in the horizon there stood the many examiners, safe and silhouetted like statues overwatching the battlefield below.

 

Illumi panted, feet and hands aching, blood dripping from his mouth. He’d yet to lose a fight and he felt certain he’d win one of the two licenses the Association was granting.

 

He felt certain he’d earn them both, if he needed to, so he could take Hisoka home after this was all done, and he could demonstrate Hisoka’s worth to his father. If he could show Silva that he and Hisoka both won the war, that would be more than enough evidence that Hisoka could be one of their butlers. That he could be Illumi’s.

 

He had a possessive streak in him, certainly. It felt right to have a possessive streak about something as tangible as a person, too. It just felt right. He was going to keep Hisoka and it was going to change his family, for the better, forever. With his mother pregnant with her third child, now was the perfect time to bring someone new into the fold.

 

As he was lost in his thoughts, Illumi found himself jerked back suddenly, violently, having been snuck up on from behind.

 

“It’s not personal,” the attacker said, hand curled into Illumi’s hair, forcing him close to her pale, pinched face. “You heard the examiner. I need your number plate to advance on.”

 

As she reached for it, her hand went missing. There was a beat of silence, and then a sound of quiet, choking surprise, and a sudden spray of blood. Her hand dropped wetly between them. When she opened her mouth to scream, no sound escaped. She dropped dead at Illumi’s feet, hand sliding out from the silky black strands of his hair. 

 

He stepped back and dropped her heart from where he’d pulled it out of her chest. He’d done it so cleanly, so perfectly, that he didn’t even have evidence of it on his fingers. 

 

Nevertheless he dripped with blood. He’d already slaughtered a half dozen opponents. 

 

The arena they had chosen for the final leg of the examination was an old ancient forest of pine and snow. It was uncomfortable and wet and reminded Illumi of home. It had been quite advantageous to end the journey there. Not many of the competitors for the licenses were well-versed in the cold.

 

Illumi looked up and found Hisoka seated upon a branch of a tree nearby. He had been unaffected by the cold entirely, despite the fact that his worn, bloody robes were quite thin. Illumi had suspicions that Hisoka was kept warm from some other nen power. He’d have to confirm eventually.

 

Hisoka smiled and held up five badges -- one between each finger. 

 

“You’re an interesting person, Illumi,” he said.

 

“You need one more badge,” Illumi replied. 

 

Hisoka lifted his foot and smiled as he revealed a sixth badge attached to the sole of his boot. “It got stuck.”

 

“No, it did not,” Illumi said. He pouted. “I am not falling for your trick for a second time. The once was plenty.”

 

Hisoka purred. “You’re too smart for that, yes.” Earlier in the week, during their second trial for a Hunter License, Hisoka had tricked him into trying to pick up a doll that was magically -- nen-magically -- superglued to the ground. Despite Illumi’s considerable strength, the doll didn’t budge, and he felt simultaneously furious and curious as Hisoka laughed uproariously at him. 

 

“Are we done here?” Illumi asked.

 

“You have your six?”

 

Illumi reached into the pockets of his yukata. He counted with his fingers. 

 

He had fifteen.

 

He nodded once, shortly. 

 

“Let’s return to the examiners, then.”

 

* * *

 

The clock ticked overhead. The room was sterile, with off-white walls, white tiled floors, and a simple rectangular table with two chairs on one side. Six examiners stood before Illumi and Hisoka where they were sat in said chairs, watching them in silent awe.

 

Hisoka was completely unmarked. No blood. No gore. His clothes, worn as they were, still looked the same as when he stepped into the entrance of the exam days before. He was smiling the same smile he always had. Illumi thought he looked a little bit like an elf. Or maybe a fairy. There was something impish and inhuman about the upturn of his nose, the sharpness of his chin, and the curl of his smile. 

 

Illumi wasn’t quite as unaffected. He sat there, a doll-like blankness on his face, but there were splatters of blood across his cheek and on the print of his yukata. He smelled of sweat and earth and his hair was damp, tangled, cascading down his shoulders in an unkempt fall.

 

The Chairman appeared at the doorway. “Oho. Hello, children. This is quite unexpected.”

 

Hisoka and Illumi turned to him, but neither said anything.

 

“You’re quite the strange pair, aren’t you?” 

 

The Chairman, with his pointed beard and tired eyes and hauntingly powerful aura, was quite strange himself. He balanced on sandals not unlike the pair Illumi wore and he emanated a character of leadership much the same way Illumi’s father and grandfather always had. Illumi was sure that had something to do with nen, too, but he didn’t precisely know.

 

“This is an even more unprecedented year than we anticipated, if I’m being honest,” the Chairman said, approaching his examiners. “Because you’re both not only quite young, but you both already have some considerable skill in nen.”

 

Illumi straightened his posture. He was wary to discuss nen with strangers, even if the strangers were meant to give him his license to Hunt.

 

“Nen, nen, nen,” Hisoka said, and then he giggled. “It’s a very important thing, isn’t it?”

 

The Chairman squinted.

 

Illumi leaned forward, voice quiet and polite. “Hisoka hasn’t heard of these powers, Mister Chairman. He is untrained.”

 

“Oho?”

 

“There is a word for those who are gifted with nen skill from birth. Prodigy. He is not the first instance of this that I have crossed in my training.”

 

The Chairman smiled. “You’re Silva’s son. A Zoldyck.”

 

Illumi nodded once. 

 

“You’re quite new to the craft of nen, then.”

 

Illumi hesitated before nodding again.

 

“Your companion is no prodigy,” the Chairman said.

 

Hisoka’s head tilted. He slouched down, until his chin was relaxed in the palm of his hand, elbow propped on the long table he and Illumi were sat at. 

 

“His skill is natural,” Illumi said.

 

“It’s not,” the Chairman said, and he smiled patiently.

 

Illumi looked to Hisoka, eyes narrowed. Had he been lied to?

 

Hisoka’s bright, crystal yellow eyes met Illumi’s, and he knew it hadn’t been a lie. Hisoka didn’t know nen. Hisoka didn’t know the source of his power.

 

“Hisoka is…” the Chairman waved a hand in the air as he searched for the words to explain, “bursting with power, yes. He uses nen without training, yes. He was not born with these skills, however. Hisoka,” the Chairman turned to him, approaching him from the other side of the table, sandals clicking on the tiled floor, “You are from Meteor City?”

 

Hisoka was still watching Illumi as he said, “More or less.”

 

“Hm?” the Chairman grunted, expecting more detail.

 

Hisoka finally looked to him. “I was born there, but I’ve lived everywhere.”

 

The Chairman nodded, like he had predicted such an answer, and smiled again. “You’ve endured a long life of abuse and you’re only sixteen, yes.”

 

Illumi had been watching very closely, which was why he only barely managed to catch a dark flicker pass over Hisoka’s eyes. A confirmation; a hint of the sort of torture he’d endured. 

 

“Your abilities manifested as they have to keep you alive. Without them, you’d have died long ago. You might not’ve known what to call them until now, but you’ve been a nen practitioner since the first time someone tried to kill you.”

 

Hisoka smiled back. “Is that so?”

 

Illumi glanced him up and down. Meteor City was a garbage town. Literally. It was a lawless land full of abandoned trash and people and animals. It was colorful and wild and it made perfect sense that Hisoka had been born there. He was colorful and wild, too. 

 

“The second part of the exam is typically to have you trained in the tenets of nen,” the Chairman explained, stepping over to his examiners, who were all exchanging wary looks. “But because you’re both already equipped, we can give you the licenses today.”

 

One of the examiners came forward with a box in each hand. “Hello, boys,” she said, her white-blonde hair tied in ribbons at her ears. “I’m Kilk, your second examiner, if you remember.”

 

“How could we forget?” Hisoka said, grinning.

 

“Yes, well, don’t think I’m happy about this,” she said, shooting a knife-glare at the Chairman. “We all have our reservations about this, especially considering the bodycount you both managed to rack up.”

 

The Chairman laughed. “One of the bloodiest exams we’ve seen, to be sure.”

 

Kilk sat before Illumi and Hisoka, pushing the boxes their way. “These contain your license. I’m going to explain some of the rules and expectations of the Hunter Association, and then we’ll send you on your way.”

 

Hisoka opened his box and pinched the license between two fingers. “It’s heavier than I thought it’d be,” he said. He twirled it between his knuckles. 

 

Illumi, Kilk, and the other examiners watched the card rather blankly. 

 

Hisoka flipped it into the air, snapped, and it vanished in a flurry of pink petals. He turned his hands front and back to show it had truly disappeared.

 

The Chairman clapped, laughing. “Very nice.”

 

Illumi opened his own box and very unenthusiastically slid his own license into the breast pocket inside his yukata.

 

Kilk cleared her throat. “Anyway. The basics that you need to know start with the license itself.”

 

* * *

 

 

Illumi led the way up the steep mountain path to his home. There was still a nip in the air from the long winter that had blanketed his mountain, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The smell of frost was as welcoming as as a hug.

 

He looked over his shoulder at where Hisoka was following dutifully. Staring directly at his ass. He had changed from a yukata to a pair of fitted black leggings and an oversized sweater from a novelty store at the airship port. It said YORKSHIN RAIDERS across the back; some kind of sports team, Illumi was lead to believe. Illumi was quite sure Hisoka had no interest in the team at all.

 

Illumi glared. Hisoka smiled.

 

“I am underage.”

 

“I am, too.”

 

“Are you a pervert?” Illumi asked.

 

“Absolutely,” Hisoka replied. “Are you?”

 

Illumi faced forward again and marched on.

 

They were going to arrive soon at the gates and he wondered if Hisoka would be able to open any of the doors. The gate doors were weighted -- too heavy and broad for any normal man to enter. Hisoka was far from normal, and if his performance during the exam were indication, he was quite strong, too.

 

But just how strong was he?

 

Illumi stopped at the end of the path. 

 

“There are gates ahead,” he said. Hisoka stood at his side and peered out. A single guard sat in a booth beside the gates, reading a book. He looked harmless, and he nearly was. He wasn’t precisely a guard, no, but more like a doorman. Illumi pointed. “Will you open them for me?”

 

Hisoka took a step forward and then turned back to Illumi. “Is this what your butlers do? Open gates? Doors?”

 

Illumi blinked at him. “Sometimes.”

 

Hisoka frowned and looked back to the gate. “I’m not interested in that.”

 

“It is not an ordinary gate,” Illumi said. “It cannot be opened by ordinary men.”

 

Illumi could tell Hisoka was smiling again, even though he was facing away. 

 

“Would you try?”

 

Hisoka approached. The doorman pushed to standing and greeted him with a wave. “A visitor?” Illumi appeared at Hisoka’s side. The doorman gasped. “Master Illumi. Welcome home! This is your guest, then?”

 

Illumi nodded. “I am hopeful that father will allow him to stay.”

 

“Stay?” the doorman inquired. 

 

Illumi didn’t bother to clarify. He motioned to the gate. Hisoka took a step forward and watched the contraption at the front. He moved the dials to the lightest option -- one ton. He stepped back, dusted off his hands, and pushed. The gate swung open with barely a creak.

 

Illumi squinted.

 

Hisoka let the gate swing closed and switched the weight contraption on the front to read the middle-most weighted option. Five tons.

 

He pushed. There was a brief pause of no movement. His hands tensed -- and then the gate burst open. 

 

Illumi squinted more.

 

Hisoka laughed and turned to Illumi, fanged teeth glinting in the evening light. “I like it.”

 

“Do the heaviest,” Illumi said, stepping forward.

 

“Oh?”

 

“The heaviest,” he emphasized. Ten tons.

 

Hisoka did as instructed, connecting the gate doors to the heaviest option. He pushed forward and the doors didn’t move. He stepped back and looked to Illumi. “It’s too much.”

 

“You need to open the heaviest door,” Illumi said. He hadn’t decided, not until right now, just how important the gates really were. They were an indication of raw strength; the kind required by all of the Zoldyck butlers. Hisoka would be a given as a candidate if he could open the heaviest door. 

 

Hisoka hummed. “But I can’t do it.”

 

“You must. We will train.” Illumi looked to the doorman. “Can we stay with you? We have to train.”

 

“We?” Hisoka said, but his comment went ignored.

 

The doorman nodded. “Master Illumi, of course. Anything for you, son. Are you sure this is necessary?”

 

“I will not risk a ‘no.’”

 

“Is it so important?” The doorman wondered, stroking his chin. 

 

“Hisoka is my weapon,” Illumi said. “I will not part with him.”

 

“Weapon?” Hisoka said, and he was ignored again.

 

“Well, all’s well. Your mother is going to give birth any day now,” the doorman said. “You don’t want to be around for that anyway. Come on in. Let’s see where we’ve stored some spare mattresses.”

 

The doorman moved aside Hisoka and reset the door contraption to the lightest setting and pushed the gates inward. He motioned for Hisoka and Illumi to come inside. 

 

They passed through the gate and were greeted by Mike, an enormous guard dog of pitch black fur and a darkened mind. Illumi hummed as he reached up for a pet. Mike let him stroke his muzzle before snuffling at Hisoka. Hisoka ignored him, looking out into the service compound where they would be staying.

 

The doorman guided them to a nearly-empty house made of rustic wood, with a thatched roof and a firepit in the center of the floor. There were worn, discarded futon mattresses piled inside a damp closet, and a small kitchen and bathroom crammed against the back of the home.

 

“I can fetch nicer futon,” the doorman said.

 

Illumi tilted his head. “These are fine.”

 

Hisoka didn’t argue as he pulled out the driest for himself. 

 

“Then I’ll leave you two to it. Good luck, Master Illumi.”

 

Illumi waved farewell and turned to find himself face-to-chest, once more, with Hisoka.

 

“Weapon, hm?” Hisoka said. He leaned in, until they were eye-to-eye.

 

Illumi feigned a smile. He kept himself quiet inside, heart beating steadily and slow. “Yes.”

 

“Illumi,” Hisoka’s voice was deep, vibrating against Illumi’s core. Illumi ignored it; ignored the way the words settled in his gut like leaves in autumn. “Which door can you open?”

 

“That seems irrelevant.”

 

“Humor me,” Hisoka said, leaning in even closer, so that their noses nearly touched.

 

Illumi blinked. “One.”

 

“What?”

 

“One. The lightest. One ton.”

 

Hisoka’s eyes widened. “The lightest door?”

 

Illumi nodded. 

 

“Why would I need to open the one weighing ten tons when you can only open the very first?” Hisoka asked, though there was no malice in the question; genuine interest, instead.

 

“The butlers are a powerful group,” Illumi said. 

 

“You think they wouldn’t accept me if I weren’t that strong.”

 

“I think that they will readily accept you if you are that strong,” Illumi replied. He blinked twice, big, blackish eyes glassy. “A difference.”

 

Hisoka smiled, slowly. “Indeed.”   
  


 

* * *

 

 

It took Hisoka two days to gain enough strength to open the door weighing ten tons.

 

As he did so, he smiled in a way that made Illumi’s stomach tighten, but he made no sign of it at all. He had been trying, very hard, to ignore any sign that he was impressed by Hisoka. He felt nothing for Hisoka; nothing beyond his ability to use him as a sword and shield for the family.

 

Hisoka might be readily accepted by Silva if he could open the heaviest gate; he might be readily slaughtered by Silva if Silva knew the way Illumi’s heart raced each time they stood close.

 

“You’ve chosen a good day to pass your own trial,” the doorman said as he waved them off. “Your newest brother has just been born.”

 

Illumi tore his eyes from Hisoka. “Really?”

 

“I just got word. Killua Zoldyck is here.” The doorman smiled kindly.

 

Illumi nodded and turned to walk up the path to his home, Hisoka in tow. A good day indeed; his father would be in a fantastic mood, no doubt.

 

“Ah, and Master Illumi?” The doorman called from behind. “Killua, your brother. He’s the heir.”

 

Illumi stopped midstep. The heir. He’d nearly forgotten; the heir to the Zoldycks, determined by the power they contain at birth. He looked to Hisoka, blinking. “It is even better, then, that you are quite strong.”

 

“What makes you say that?” Hisoka asked, the corners of his mouth tilted up, grinning. 

 

“We will need all the protection we can get. The heir is very important.”

 

“More important than you?” Hisoka reached out and very lightly touched a strand of air framing Illumi’s face. Illumi’s heart thundered between his ears and he wondered if Hisoka could hear it. If Hisoka knew. “You’re the oldest.”

 

“I am no heir.”

 

“How backwards,” Hisoka said. He smiled again. “Introductions are in order.”

 

Illumi nodded, stepping out of Hisoka’s reach. “Yes, they are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this alternate universe, Illumi's obsession with his younger brother Killua is going to be greatly affected by his proximity to young Hisoka. Having another target for his fanatical, unhealthy possession means great things for Killua.
> 
> (And terrible things for Hisoka.)

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway: it's another tale of Hisoka and Illumi falling in love among the horrors that are the Hunter x Hunter universe. Much of the content will be true to canon, but displaced as I've changed their ages and some of their pasts to account for meeting much like Gon and Killua, at the tender ages of twelve and sixteen.
> 
> They will age up rapidly in the coming chapters. There's no underage porn here. Just to put those worries to bed. :p
> 
> If you're interested in a canon version of their romance, I've written an entire series based on that concept: http://archiveofourown.org/series/268174 - The Biggest Change.


End file.
